Only So Much
by The Illusionist's Wings04
Summary: Over the summer, something happened. Something horrible. Now, coming back for sophmore year of high school, Max's friends have finally found out how much has really changed. Will they take the lies or see through to the truth? We all have only so much time before night falls, after all...
1. Prologue

**So, I'm back with a completely different type of story from what I usually write. The plot is a lot like a lot of stories on this site, I'll admit, but I'm going to try to keep as much my own as possible. This is without wings, and there will be Fax, but if the story goes as planned, it'll take a while to get to it. But I hope you give it a chance! ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: Though I own the major plot, I don't own some of the characters or settings. James Patterson is in full credit to the creation of Maximum Ride. **

_I still have the dreams._

_Mom and Dad don't realize it, El. They think I'm healing from the inside out, and soon I'll be their smiling little girl again. All this time, I've tricked them; me, Max, the most horrible liar on the planet. I have everyone fooled; even my-our-friends can't see it._

_I know you would never want me to blame myself. I mean, you were the sweetest, nicest one between the both of us. You would have never felt this sort of guilt before, El; you had no reason to. Such a selfless, innocent girl with her whole life ahead of her. You were going to go to great places. We all knew someday we would all be sitting in the crowds, cheering you on from below. If anyone could save "every animal in the universe", it would be you; top of your class, kind to every face, and with our mom's beautiful Hispanic complexion and big brown eyes, a knock out with all the 7__th__ grade boys._

_And then I had to make a stupid mistake and take it all away from you._

_The last moments of your life were happy; I can comfort myself with that fact. Bright sunny skies shined through skylights over the food court. We were sharing a large basket of fries bought with the leftover cash, and I remember you dumped at least a pint of vinegar over the greasy mass. The scolding had been short lived, however. I won't deny that your fashion expertise had managed to make _me_ excited for my date, Dylan, to pick me up next week for the high school dance._

_It was impossible not to see that adorable grin stretch across your face as I teased you mercilessly about that boy who had asked you to the end of the year dance. We had both agreed that Gazzy was a weird name, but you insisted that he was cutest boy in your grade and even though all the girls would die for a chance to say yes to the invitation, he had walked up to you in front of everyone and straight out asked that question. It was so strange, El, the side you brought out of me that no one else could. We were total opposites: you with your sparkly blue nail polish and vintage flats, and then me with my short, clean nails and red converse. But somehow you could bring down that tough girl act in seconds, and soon you'd have me giggling about the cute guys and latest fashion trends._

_You were obviously pretty nervous about your first real dance, too, though. No sane person would ask me, the girl who would wear her pajamas the whole day if possible, for fashion advice. But here we were, going dress after dress. Oh, El, you had the employees running back and forth to deliver new sizes and styles fresh from the rack to my hand. For Mom's sake, I would dutifully look to make sure it was 'appropriate' for your age group and if it passed my lazy inspection, over the door into the changing room it would go. There were also some supposed etiquette rules you wanted to run by me: do I have to stay with Gazzy the whole night, can I dance the whole time or is it customary to chat by the punch bowl? I had laughed at how serious she had looked, like this dance was going to be the test to where you would be in the 'coolness rating' next year. Not that it wasn't. I mean, it's a middle school dance, right? But I knew you would be fine, with the world already wrapped around your finger._

_Nearly every dress in the store had been tried on before you decided on one you told me was perfect. _"It's both casual, but appealing to the eye," _you told me eagerly. I had rolled my eyes like any other sister would and told her, _"as long as it's not _too _appealing to the eye, El."_ Blushing, you had smacked my arm, but all I did was chuckle at the embarrassment so clear on your face. _"You're turning into Mom," _you had stuttered out before stomping your way towards the food court._

_And then we came to where we are now; the last fry was stolen, the last sip of coke was taken, and out into the heat we went to wait for Dad to pick us up. After half an hour of waiting, we finally got a call from him. Apologizing for keeping us wait, we were told to walk down the street to a coffee shop nearby. 'Your mother should be there,' he told me. By now, impatience must have been evident on my face, because you became the immature one, mimicking Dad's words and shaking your fist with mock earnest. I nearly dropped your phone with Pretty Pink casing trying to keep my laughter down. _"Ok, Dad, O-K! We'll be careful."

_The sisterly love had dwindled down a good bit in half a block. You became a little menace, complaining on and on about the heat wave and pushing your shopping bags at my own full arms. Finally we made it to the cross walk arguing and I thank the gods that across the way I could see my mother in the window of the small shop across the street, sipping an iced tea and calmly reading the local paper._

_Too late, though. You had been toeing the line for at least ten minutes, and I was full of the whining. _"Don't be such a cranky kid. Tell me why Gazzy asked you out again?"

_The moment the words passed my lips, I could see the impact they made. I wish I could lie and tell you I was sorry, but honestly, I was proud to see the betrayal clear in your eyes. It was a powerful feeling, the control I had, and with it came a crude smirk._

_Hurt and angry, you whipped around and starting stalking into the street. Irritation had made me blind to my job and I let you go a few seconds before reaching out an empty hand to pull you back. But it was too late._

_I did it, El. I did it._

_I should be the one dead._

**Please tell me what you think! Review!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hola! So, for my long update, I decided to write a long chapter. This has got to be my longest word count ever…. I may take awhile to update. Next week I go off to band camp, so the next update will either be this weekend or the next one. So… that's it! Enjoy!**

"Max?"

_Yes?_

"Max!"

I jumped in surprise, my fork clanking down into the syrupy mess on my plate. I glared down at my favorite chocolate pancake stack, which was oddly tasteless this morning, and then looked up to give my mother a reproachful look. "See what you made me do?" I told her jadedly, picking up the sticky utensil with a thumb and pointer finger to set it on the edge of the platter.

"Sorry, honey," my mom apologized in a light tone, replacing the dirty fork with a new one immediately and sitting down across the table. Valencia Martinez laced her long fingers together and gave me a slight smile, leaning her head to the side in a familiar motion. I gazed back at her wearily, worried at what may come out of her mouth this morning. Of all the mornings, I knew this one was going to include a loving monologue about 'putting my best foot forward.'

"So, excited for school?" she asked. I kept my gaze lowered to the table, outlining the glass of OJ with a single fingertip. Sometimes it worked this way; if I stayed successfully silent for longer than a minute, she would get uncomfortable with the silence and leave. Valencia, though a lover of relaxing alone in her garden, was a social woman. Her weariness of the stillness had grown even more prominent in the last few months, and even though it made me feel guilty at times, I had been taking advantage of this a lot. It was useful to get out of awkward conversations, including this one. Unfortunately, Mom seemed extra chipper this morning. "I bet you're excited to all your friends. You haven't seen all summer, have you? Nudge hasn't called about a forced mall trip since June."

I provided a weak smile for my mom's benefit at her empty joke. "Yeah, I guess."

Mom stared at me for a moment as if waiting for further response, but I was sure to keep a blank persona while she studied my tired features. After a few seconds, she gave a small sigh and reached across the table to pick up my still half covered plate. I didn't even try to be the helpful daughter for once and let her stand to clean up the kitchen herself with her own blood shot eyes forced open and tight fingers gripping the ceramic cereal bowl. It was odd to see my mother like this; she used to be such a strong figure. That must be where I got it from because my father was a downright coward. But now….now I don't know.

"It's getting late," she told me from the sink. "If you want to catch up with Fang you better get going now."

My head nodded, but she wouldn't have seen the confirmation I gave. She just stood in front the running tap quietly, her back facing towards me. I decided a quick retreat would be best and slipped soundlessly out the front door, backpack and navy blue hoodie in hand. Stopping momentarily on the stoop, I slid on the jacket and pulled my backpack full of new supplies before making my was down to the sidewalk and starting my short walk to the highschool building.

I had walked past Fang's house next door without looking for his familiar figure, preferring the solitude. It was surprisingly quiet for the neighborhood for the first day of school, but I suppose it made sense. Most kids preferred to leave the house as late as possible to get in that extra ten minutes of cartoons or breakfast, but my friends and I usually got to school early to talk by the swingset. Still, the silence was an unexpected part of the day. I had already prepared myself first thing in the morning for slamming of lockers and chattering voices.

Don't get me wrong, though. Initially, the whole sit-in-my-room-and-sulk gig was a little boring, if not horrible for my mental state (or, at least, that's what Mom thought.) Then, it had gotten better. In fact, the woods behind my house had finally been put to use. Before, it had been the haunted woods where we would dare each other to go into after sunset. Finally this summer I had gotten a little adventurous and ventured my way through the thicket of bushes into the trees. That's where most of my time was spent in the last few months: winding a path through the trees, watching the birds and sketching up in the branches. My mother had no idea where I was, but neither of us bothered to talk much. She spent her days at the clinic, I in the privacy of the forest. The only time we really spent together was arguing over the days I would go to Dad's. So, clearly most weeks were exhausted frolicking after little bunnies and chipmunks.

About a block away from the school was when it started to get busy. Kids of all ages were coming from different directions with their dark tans and seashell bracelets. The younger kids wandered around the middle school's many entrances, looking lost in pink ruffled skirts and backwards baseball caps with new schedules. The same nearly went for the freshmen, who seemed to be looking cool slouching against buildings off the side while eagerly glancing for a sight of a familiar face. It was easy to pick out the new kids, too; they stood aside from the rest, some looking miffed or confused, others enthusiastically introducing themselves to every living being within a five meter distance. The mixture of kids, all so easily stereotyped into categories, which I suppose was sad on my part to be doing the labeling myself.

As I entered the school grounds, I realized with a sudden start how alien it felt. The brick entrance with stone steps was the same. There were even the regular cliques standing in their regular spots as always, doing their own ritual of initiation for the newbies. But something in the air, it felt different. Foreign. The minute I stepped on the lawn, it suddenly felt like every pair of eyes was on me, seeing and assessing my thoughts. My body automatically straightened, and I felt my shoulders fall back and chin raise. No matter, though, I didn't meet anyone's gaze. I didn't see want to see the pity that was sure to be there. I didn't want it.

"Max!"

My legs nearly collapsed beneath me when I felt sudden extra weight fall on to my back. The breath wooshed out of my lungs and I couldn't help but grin at the well-known welcoming of Monique Jones, AKA Nudge, fashionista of the Flock.

"Hey, Nudge," I called out after taking a few deep breath. The weight was removed quickly, and a figure entered my vision from behind.

Nudge's hazel eyes sparkled as much as her purple sequined top did. Because it's Nudge, I suppose I should describe the rest of her outfit. I may not like her type of style, but let's face it, someday I know she was going to be selling high-end fashion to all the redcarpet celebrities, so it would be wrong not to tell you about her first-day attire. Like any other freshmen entering the grand world of highschool, she had gone a little overboard with the whole thing; luckily, it was Nudge, so the whole thing managed to fall together like a jigsaw puzzle. She wore dark jean shorts with those small crystal designs on the back pockets, and above it was a billowy sequined purple tanktop that complemented her mocha skin well. It was accessorized with a charm bracelet from JJ, a purple headband pulling back her curly brown hair, and some cutesy black sandals with red beads strung on the straps.

"So, missy, how've you been this summer?" Nudge chirped, dragging me willingly towards our normal hang out. "Meet any cute guys down at the beach? I heard you and Dylan broke up from-well, actually, never mind. He told me you'd kill him personally if I told you about that-."

I quirked an eyebrow, but settled to just let the Nudge Channel prattle on. She's a great friend, but Nudge was one of those talkative kids that from their first words at two never shut their mouths again. Sometimes it could get old, but there was the comforting thought that there would never be an awkward moment around Nudge. She and JJ could go on and on about any subject for hours; I had seen it happen. To be honest, that duo could make the Seven Wonders of the World eight.

The whole fiasco of being lugged past other students was just starting to get old when I finally say our destination close in. We had come to a colorful playground with three different platforms at different heights, and another smaller platform was attached to it with blue monkey bars. Nudge let go of my wrist and plopped down on the lowest platform next to a boy with strawberry blond hair cut short whose pale blue eyes were trailing the sound of my movement a few feet away. "Hey, Maxie. How you been?" Iggy called out. Haven't seen you in, what, three months?"

I nodded, than subconsciously said, "Yeah, Ig. It's been a long time." Iggy, who I've known since third grade, had unfortunately gone blind when he was first born because an illness that had damaged a part of his eyes. When I had first met him, though, he had made me swear not to treat him any differently from any other kid. I had promised and even though I had been a little worried initially, I learned pretty fast that Iggy didn't need much help at all. In fact, if he knew the area well enough or was with someone else who was familiar with it, he might as well have 20/20 vision.

"_Too _long if you ask me," a feminine voice accused from above. I glanced up and was nearly met with a foot in the fact before I ducked in time. Glaring indignantly in the direction of the offending appendage, I saw a giggling JJ, who was sitting on top of the monkey bars, legs kicking back and forth. She and Nudge were what I called the 'Siamese twins' of the group, but they looked nothing alike. Besides their obsession over sparkly objects, that is. JJ, also known as Jennifer Joy (her parents are awesome, trust me. Anyone would think with a name like that they were a bunch of retired flower childs, but her mom makes the BEST lasagna) is the more down-to-earth one between the two. Her style is a little less glitzy; I've seen her wear a crocheted sweater from her grandmother, and trust me, she pulls it off without a hitch. But right now, she wore no homemade gift for the first day. Her straight chestnut hair was cut off right below her shoulder line with some short layering, and the long bangs were left hanging to frame JJ's petite face. Her light aqua blouse complemented her own blue eyes, its sleeves rolled up to the elbows because of the heat. The shirt was paired with dark shorts and black ankle boots.

"It's true, you know," another voice rumbled next to my ear. I gave a start, jumping around to face my attacker, but instead saw Fang, who was chuckling at the look of shock on my face. I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment as the rest of the group laughed behind me.

I slapped Fang's arm hard and he played defeated, holding up his arms in mock surrender. "Don't do that!" I, Max, squealed, attempting to push Fang back in the dirt. He just stood laughing.

"Do what?" Breathe?" I frowned hard in his direction, starting up again to shove him into the playset. "Fine, I'm sorry. I said I was sorry….. MAX!"

As he tried to brush the mulch out of his hair, I studied him for any change in his usual emo self over the summer. Nope, none whatsoever. He still had the long shaggy black hair, which had now gone brown with dirt, the dark eyes that shot calculating looks towards me to make sure I hadn't gone on offensive again. He still wore the black attire: black pants (how was he not roasting?), black T-shirt with some fancy-shamancy design on the shoulders, black converse (we match!), and his leather jacket. That kid has got to be cold-blooded or something; even in my jean shorts and green tanktop, I still had to take off at least my jacket from the increasing heat.

When he finally had shaken out most of the grit and looked up towards us, I had given him a slight grin. He seemed perplexed, but I wasn't given a chance to scrutinize his expression.

"So, seriously," I heard from behind, breaking through my trance. Glancing behind me, I saw a range of faces between all my friends: worry, happiness, thoughtfulness, blankness. JJ stared down through the bars to me and repeated the same phrase I heard again and again in the past weeks. "_Are _you ok?"

I gave a heavy sigh. "Guys, my answer is the same."

"You sure?"

This was getting redundant. I get they care, but-. "Yeah," I told them, giving a reluctant smile. "I'm good. Coping."

_I am?_

**And voila! Finally, I've got this done, and I'm actually pretty happy about the result. As always, please review!**


End file.
